He's so distracted by the look of excitement on her face that he doesn't register the cool air on the head of his dick until just before she's coming back down. He doesn't think anything of it, or maybe he doesn't think at all. It's already too late by then, and he flinches before he even registers the pain, and then he feels like he's taken a warhammer to his cock. His spine curves as he shoots up, trying to curl in on himself, but she's in the way.
She's not sure how the trajectory got so skewed, but she yelps both in surprise from hearing Clive yell and because the impact hurt. She throws herself off to the side, and it's only when she's on the mattress that she's pretty sure she felt his dick bend as it smashed into the crease of her groin. She sits up.
There couldn’t be enough sorries He curls onto his side, groaning into the sheets. Fuck. Even in the haze of pain, he finds some strength to grip her arm with one hand and his poor, aching groin with the other.
He didn’t know it was possible to go soft that fast, and he’s scared to see why.
“I forgive you,” he mutters, because he loves her, but the pain is so sharp and so intense that he swears his dick is pulsing. He turns his face deeper into the sheets, groaning into them. His grip on her arm tightens, bracing himself.
"I'll tell you when it's eased enough for me to tell," he says, a bit snappy as he dares to look himself. It doesn't look terribly off save for the slight bend, but that alone is enough to fear the worst. "Fu––" No. Aggravated: "Founder..."
Clive wants to sink right through this mattress, through the floors, and right down to hell, where he need not exist anymore.
"It had better be," he grumbles. He thinks about sitting up properly but he chooses to just lay there, exhausted. He squeezes her in turn. "Are you alright?"
She doesn't want to think of worse than a bruise. Which she most definitely will have, and she resists the urge to touch the tender skin between her legs.
"Likely also bruised," she says, grimacing. "I don't know how that happened."
The occasional slip happens here and there, but nothing so catastrophic.
“That’s why we must be careful,” he grouses, flopping back onto his back and looking up at the ceiling. He runs his hand along her, the only comfort he can muster. “It was too reckless…”
Jill, likewise, can only rub his belly. Her eyes are trained on his dick, watching as if she's waiting for it to change color or swell in a way that is not appealing.
"For all the times we've had one another... and frantically, at that, I'm surprised this hasn't happened sooner."
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And he yells. Loudly.
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"Sorry!"
Maybe she did need help.
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He didn’t know it was possible to go soft that fast, and he’s scared to see why.
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"Let me see," she says.
What if his cock is broken.
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She pets his hair and prays his dick isn't bent. She liked it as it was.
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At least it feels nice to have his hair pet.
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"Let me see it." Whatever is left...
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"Where does it hurt?" She asks. As if she has a dick splint on hand.
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"Ah. Hmm."
Poor penis. This is untrod territory.
"It's--just a bruise, hopefully."
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"It had better be," he grumbles. He thinks about sitting up properly but he chooses to just lay there, exhausted. He squeezes her in turn. "Are you alright?"
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"Likely also bruised," she says, grimacing. "I don't know how that happened."
The occasional slip happens here and there, but nothing so catastrophic.
She wonders if she's getting loose.
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"For all the times we've had one another... and frantically, at that, I'm surprised this hasn't happened sooner."
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His cock is purpling.